Exposure by Evelyn Anthony

drink on the way home. I could do with one.’
    Ben took his glasses off and stuffed them into his breast pocket.
    â€˜Well, I’ve no pressing engagements for this evening. Why don’t we make it dinner?’
    â€˜I don’t see what they hope to find out in Germany,’ Evelyn Western pointed out. ‘All that’s been gone over and over and nobody got anywhere.’
    She was driving to London with her husband. The glass partition was shut, so the chauffeur couldn’t hear their conversation.
    â€˜That’s exactly what I said to Julia,’ he answered. ‘But she’s got some idea in her head about the woman who brought the bastard to England. There’s no record of her dying when King’s biographer says she did. She’s following up on that. I don’t believe it matters. He’s lied about himself so often, one more lie doesn’t make much difference. Good thing is she persuaded Harris to work on it with her. He said no to me. I told you.’
    â€˜You can’t blame him after last time,’ his wife said.
    â€˜I hadn’t any choice,’ Western insisted. ‘They’d found Richard Watson. I had to back off.’
    â€˜I know,’ she placed her hand over his, comforting him.
    â€˜It might have been a bluff, but I couldn’t risk it. The honours list was up for confirmation, we were going at full throttle with the TV franchise – I had to pull Harris off the story.’
    â€˜We should have gone to see him,’ she said slowly. ‘I said so at the time. But you wouldn’t listen to me, Billy.’
    â€˜I knew him, you didn’t,’ he retorted. ‘He wasn’t the sort to be bought off. That’s all King needed – proof that I’d been to see Watson or made some attempt to bribe him. Then he’d have crucified me.’
    â€˜He’s going to do that now,’ Evelyn answered. ‘It’s just a matter of time.’
    â€˜Time is what it’s all about,’ he said. ‘He wants the Herald , and he’s waiting for the right moment before he pulls the rug out on me. But I’m going to get there first, Evie. I’m going to show him up as a liar and a crook, and nothing he says will be believed after that.’
    â€˜And you really believe that Julia can do it?’
    â€˜With Harris to help her – yes. I have to believe it. I have to.’
    Evelyn Western looked out of the window. It was raining and the glass was blurred and opaque in the failing light.
    â€˜I wish he was dead,’ she said.
    Western didn’t answer. He had thought that often enough. It was the last desperate option. But he didn’t say so to his wife.

4
    Harold King swivelled his chair so he could look out of the enormous plate-glass window. It offered a magnificent panoramic view of London, with the silver sweep of the Thames so far below it looked like a ribbon. In the distance he could see the pointed towers of Westminster and the House of Commons. Once, when he had made his first million, he joined the Liberal Party; he liked the idea of becoming an MP. He had stood during the next by-election and been roundly defeated by the Labour candidate. Since then he had conducted a merciless campaign against the MP in particular and the Party in general. The defeat had wounded his pride, and he never forgave anyone or anything that touched his self-esteem. Beyond the Commons lay his ultimate goal. The Lords.
    But that was some way in the future. That would be his next target after he had increased his power and sphere of influence by the acquisition of the Sunday Herald . And with it the political journalists that had made the newspaper famous, and the financial section that was so well respected that it had inside information from the Treasury and the Chancellor’s office. Western had built himself a power house in that newspaper.
    He had recruited the best people, paid them the top